It's been a while since I wrote something for these two, but with Far From Home on its way and two trailers teasing a Peter x MJ relationship, I had to get the giddiness out of my system with this fic. It's a long one, folks. Get some snacks. I'm really, really sorry if it drags in parts because after reading over it I feel like it does, but here we are. Also, if you so please, leave a review when you finish! Feedback is always greatly appreciated.

So far, Europe was one of the best experiences of Peter Parker's life, aside from getting his spider-powers and standing on the stage at the Stark Expo when he was a little kid. The locales the decathlon team had visited were breathtaking, and the food they ate was delicious. It was a true bonding experience for the whole group.

The part of the trip that stuck out like a sore thumb, though, was MJ. Mysterious, political activist, snarky MJ. If you told Peter Parker at the beginning of sophomore year that he was going to have the biggest crush in the world on Michelle Jones, he would laugh in your face. Well, actually, the more Peteresque response would be to laugh nervously and subsequently turn beet red at the prospect of such a thing, but you get the point.

However, as time continued, Peter started to notice small things about the tall, mildly-intimidating girl. For example:

- When he looked at her across the room in the rare occurrence that he got detention, her hair hung over her face like a canopy as she sketched her daily "person in crisis," as she liked to put it, and her tongue stuck out just a little bit, her eyebrows slightly creased as she etched in each detail.

- When she caught him staring dumbly at her, no matter whether it be across the table at lunch, in the middle of decathlon practice, or in 3rd period Chemistry on Fridays, she would frown at him, and when he waved shyly, she would roll her eyes and a puff of air would escape her nostrils, not able to conceal her amusement with his reaction.

- When they left decathlon practices after school in winter, and the sky got dark at 4:00 p.m., the yellow streetlights would give her a halo, her frizzy hair that went in all directions reflecting the glow. This, Peter found especially startling.

Now, 8 months later, if you went to follow up with Peter, he wouldn't be able to deny that he felt something for the honey-skinned, one-inch-taller-than-him master of sarcasm. He wouldn't know what to call it. He'd probably say "yeah, she's pretty or… whatever" while sweating out of every pore in his body. You would probably laugh just a little bit, and when he heard the sound, he'd tense up and say "I hate you, Ned."

The trip lasted two weeks. Looking back at it, Peter remembered the day everyone had met at the airport, pulling behind them giant suitcases full of clothes and necessities. There was nervous energy abundant in the air, radiating off of each teenager and Mr. Harrington didn't know how to assuage it, letting it hang like a canopy as they waited in line for bag check. Naturally, Peter had found Ned first, and as they stood in line they were having a semi-heated debate about just how realistic it was that Ant-Man was all science and no magic, when suddenly, in the middle of one of Ned's points, a voice cut him off from behind Peter. The tone and sound had become comfortably familiar to him after hearing it ask questions in decathlon questions for months on end.

"What the hell are you dorks talking about?" The words, while they would be perceived as grating and rude by any other listener, are what Peter knows to be a curious question. He turns around to face her and gestures toward Ned.

"We were discussing the… the believability of Ant-Man." The words sound idiotic coming out of Peter's mouth, and they leave a bad taste. He is hyperaware of MJ eyeing him curiously, an eyebrow cocked and her arms crossed over her slender frame. He looks into her eyes, and they pierce his with their gaze. Peter takes a nervous step backward, and she notices. The corner of her mouth quirks upwards in a microscopic smile, and she decides not to acknowledge the nerves radiating off of him.

She says to Ned, "I hope you can explain this to me better than Parker can." Ned awkwardly gives her a recap of the conversation they had been having before she interrupted, and she nods slightly when he finishes. "You guys are a bunch of nerds," she observes with a note of finality in her voice. Peter gives a small, timid nod, starting to turn back towards Ned, but her voice stops him in his tracks once again. "Either way, Ant-Man clearly uses something to shrink himself. Pretty sure he can't just go ant-size by willing it to happen."

Ned interjects, "In a world with a guy who can become a massive green dude when he's angry and a frozen-for-70-years super soldier who doesn't look a day over 30, a guy who can shrink to the size of an ant is where you draw the line?"

MJ shrugs. "Yeah," she confirms casually. Before Peter can speak, the woman at the bag check stand calls out, "Next, please" and he walks up to her, easily placing his heavy suitcase on the scale. While he's waiting for the woman to do… whatever a woman with her job does, he closes his eyes and the image of her smiling faintly is seared into his eyelids: Her squinty eyes caused by the rising of her cheekbones to accommodate her slightly upward-curving lips, her trademark frizzy hair framing her face (and a small strand of it hanging over her right eye, which if Peter had been a little bit closer to her he would have been very tempted to brush it behind her ear).

Peter shakes the image out of his head, taking his suitcase back and walking off to the side to wait for the rest of his teammates.

For the first few days of the trip, the team is in London. They do their fair share of sightseeing, riding the famed double-decker buses around the expansive city and taking a look at Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, and the Tower Bridge, all classic London landmarks. Peter and Ned take a lot of pictures, each and every one involves some sort of goofy pose. On the rare occasion MJ allows Peter to take one of her, he tries his best to make sure it looks perfect. There's a picture of her and Ned leaning against each other, back to back, with their hands in finger-gun positions. Ned's mouth is frozen in a laugh, and he's wearing that silly hat he wears when he wants to feel "confident." Betty had probably told him he looked cute in it, so now he wears it wherever he went. Meanwhile, MJ wears her signature brown cargo jacket, the one Peter always thought made her eyes look especially captivating - but he'd never say it aloud. However, in this particular snap her eyes are closed, and as he had seen at the airport, she smiles a teeny-tiny bit, and every time he looks at her face in the photo he gets that familiar feeling of his stomach doing a backflip - like when you lean a bit too far back in your chair and start to fall. That feeling had become familiar to Peter, because every time she shakes her hair out of a ponytail and glares at him in an attempt to look intimidating, or smiles when he offers to carry her heavy textbooks, or when he makes a jab at her and she punches him in the arm, trying to hold in a laugh, that feeling returns.

The strongest instance of this feeling yet, Peter experiences on the London Eye. It's the team's last day in London, and Mr. Harrington wants to do something fun. So, they go on a day where the sun has shone, and it's beginning to set as they get on queue for the Eye. Orange and red hues glow faintly through the clouds, and there's a small breeze that gives Peter goosebumps. He and Ned stand together, with Betty in tow (the two have become inseparable since they started dating). However, Peter isn't excited to third-wheel, so he breathes a sigh of relief when MJ comes up beside him just before they are about to get in the passenger car.

"Hey, Parker," she says nonchalantly by way of greeting. He smiles shyly at her before turning ahead. Not waiting for Peter to say anything, she suddenly cups her hands around his left ear and whispers, "Don't get any ideas. I'm only doing this to save you the embarrassment of having to be alone for five minutes with those two weirdos." Betty and Ned. Peter is having trouble focusing on what she's saying because MJ's so close to him and the combination of her hands brushing against his neck and her whispered words into his ear is sending chills down his spine. His breath hitches when she pulls away, and he can tell she's eyeing him, waiting for some sort of response.

Peter looks back at her and nods his head curtly, nervously. "G...got it." Jesus. Can he sound any more awkward? At this point, he's scared that she already knows he has a giant crush on her and is just messing with him to see his reaction. MJ frowns after he splutters out the two words, and shifts her weight from one leg to the other. Peter decides to focus on the ground between their feet.

"M-hmm," she hums. Before she can say anything else, the Eye has stopped and the operator is calling up the next group of riders to board. Ned and Betty get in first, and Peter and MJ follow suit. It's a bit cramped, but Ned and Betty are giggling happily as their thighs brush together, and it's fair to say that Peter isn't complaining when he feels the fabric of MJ's jeans against his leg. He keeps his hands clasped in his lap, not wanting to accidentally touch her and make her frown at him like a difficult math problem. He looks down at her lap and sees that she's fidgeting a bit, tapping each finger of her right hand against her thigh rhythmically. Stop staring, weirdo, MJ's voice mumbles in Peter's head. So he does. He doesn't understand how even her voice in his head is still able to impact his actions.

Peter decides to stop focusing on MJ's legs and instead look out of the car and to the sky. The sun is becoming lower and lower in the sky, and the orange tones he had observed earlier are deepening, becoming redder and redder. He thinks he notices a dash of purple. He steals a glance at Betty and Ned, who are now holding hands and doing the same as he was a second ago, observing the London skyline and whispering in each other's ear every now and then. Suddenly, they turn towards Peter and MJ, and both of them frown slightly at the sudden attention. Ned looks at Peter, and suddenly he gets the idea. He knows what's gonna come out of Ned's mouth before he says it.

"Can you guys take some pictures of us?" Ned asks sheepishly, holding his phone out for one of them to take. Peter grins. Even though they've been together for at least a month, Ned is still nervous around Betty. He takes the phone from Ned's outstretched hand, opening the camera app.

"You two are such dorks, you know that?" MJ says in her trademark indifferent tone of voice. However, Peter knows that she actually means "You two are adorable" and just isn't the type to say that sort of thing aloud. Peter looks at MJ, and he can see she's having a really hard time hiding a smile. He holds the phone between them, angling it so that the happy couple is in the foreground and the yarn-thread sky is in the background, giving them pleasant backlighting as they smile and mush their cheeks against each other. Peter's smile is only growing as he takes more pictures, and the whispered encouragement of "That's a good one" or "Nice" from MJ is giving him a taste of the backflipping stomach.

After taking at least 20 pictures, Peter hands back the phone and smiles encouragingly. Ned shows Betty the photos and they scroll through, smiling at some and oohing at others. Peter looks back out at the skyline, thinking the rest of the ride will be in silence, trying his damnedest to not focus on the fact that the pressure of MJ's thigh is really starting to make the tips of his ears burn in embarrassment. Okay. He can do this. Only a few more minutes. It appears that Ned knows just how flustered he is right now and wants to capitalize on it, because he says, "Now it's your guys' turn!" Peter jolts back towards Ned, eyes bugging out.

"Uh…" he says dumbly. He looks at MJ, gauging her reaction. Oh, no. She doesn't look excited at the idea. Or is he just making her facial expression up in his head? No. Don't get your hopes up, Peter. After a moment of awkward silence, she nods. Huh?

"Okay, sure." Now that the words are out of her mouth and hanging in the air, neither Peter nor Ned knows what to do or say. They sit in silence for a few more seconds, and Peter watches her frown. "Well? Aren't you gonna take the pictures, Leeds?" Ned's hands shoot into action then, and he's angling the phone towards them in a matter of seconds. Peter doesn't know what to do with his hands, and before he does anything to make himself look normal, he feels MJ's arm snake around his shoulder and her frizzy hair brushing against his temple. Oh, God. If he was feeling nervous before, he's feeling like he can't move at all now. "I can't be doing all the work here, Parker. You probably look like a damn wooden plank right about now." He hears Ned and Betty snicker. Not wanting to disappoint, he tentatively reaches around her neck, allowing his hand to rest on her upper arm. He puts on a smile. The camera flashes every few seconds, and Peter looks at MJ when she blinks the light out of her eyes and says, "This isn't a damn photo shoot, Leeds. You've taken enough pictures." In the middle of her sentence, Ned snaps another shot.

Peter laughs. "Okay, Ned, that's enough. Thanks for the photos." Ned shoves his phone back into his pocket, then looks back up at Peter, grinning.

"You're welcome, Peter. So welcome." What the heck is that supposed to mean? Peter mulls it over in his head for a second. He actually knows exactly what he means and he hates it. After sitting in silence once more for a few seconds, both Peter and MJ notice that they still have their arms around each other and awkwardly extricate themselves from each other's grip. He swears he sees the faintest blush on her cheeks, but he convinces himself that it's just the sunset playing tricks on his hopeful eyes. He takes a moment to look at her and notices that her hair is glowing in the light, giving it a golden aura, framing her face and making MJ look the most beautiful he's ever seen her. He gulps. She seems to hear this and shoots him a glare that is so strong it makes him turn away. He smiles to himself, though, having the image of her content facial expression framed by her glowing, beautiful mane of hair etched into his brain.

When they get to the hotel that night, Ned sends Peter every single picture he took of him and MJ. Also, that night, while Ned is asleep, he sets one of the photos as his phone background. In it are Peter and MJ, arms around each other, her head resting against his, with a comical expression on her face, a mock frown. Her index finger is pointed at his face, one that wears a timid smile. It's the typical goofy picture that Peter would take with Ned, but instead of Ned it's MJ, and somehow that makes it feel different.

He may or may not have looked at the picture until he passed out at 2:00 in the morning.

Their next stop is Athens. Peter doesn't talk to MJ as much, but at some points, as they gawk at the beauty of the Parthenon and walk through the Acropolis, he catches her looking at him with mild admiration. Or at least, that's what he thinks it is. He can tell MJ's not happy to be noticed because she always turns to look at some unknown point in the distance when he tries to return her gaze.

When they go to a fancy restaurant after a long day of sightseeing, Peter pays a bit too much attention to the fact that MJ decides to take a seat next to him at the long table reserved for the decathlon team. When she checks the time on her phone, he can't help but glance at the screen, and he blanches when he notices that she has the same exact picture as he does as her lock screen: the exact same photo, with Peter's stupid smile and MJ's silly frown.

"The hell are you lookin' at, Parker?" She asks sharply, pressing the power button on her phone, pulling Peter off of his train of thought - he didn't remember what exactly he was thinking about, but that doesn't matter now, because now her eyes are impaling him, and he has to think of a response quick.

"Uh… nothing!" He splutters, looking down into his food. She decides not to dignify his denial with a response save for a curious eyebrow-raise, digging back into her plate. As Peter eats, he can't help but smile as he realizes that there's a glimmer of hope for him.

On the last night in Athens, the team goes to see a play. It's one of the Greek epics, but it's compressed into two hours, which everyone is thankful for. And also, the playwright was gracious enough to have it performed in English. The usual suspects sit together: Betty, Ned, Peter, MJ (in that order). Betty and Ned hold each other's hand for the duration of the show, and Peter doesn't want to know how sweaty their hands are after two hours of that. He tries to focus on the play, but to be honest, it's not capturing his attention in the least. So instead, he and MJ decide to throw little jabs at various aspects of it: the costumes, the guffaw-worthy dialogue, and most of all, the absolute boredom with which it endows them.

This naturally involves more whispering, and just like on the Eye, Peter gets very flustered every time she draws closer to him and speaks into his ear, feeling the small rush of air on his skin every time a word escapes her mouth. However, he gets used to doing the same himself, and he's too busy laughing to focus on the physical contact for too long. When they finally walk out of the theater, Peter and MJ let out a collective sigh, thankful that the torture has ended. Betty and Ned are off discussing the play, leaving the other pair to walk together back to the hotel.

It's silent for a few minutes, but the quiet is obviously getting to both of them, so eventually, they start to speak, but at the same time, not able to finish their sentences before both stopping to let the other continue. Peter is usually the one to concede, so he makes a gesture to prompt MJ to go first. She takes a deep breath and blows it out instantly. "How are you enjoying the trip so far?" The question is uncertain like it's not what she actually wanted to talk about, or maybe she just isn't one for small talk. Peter decides that it's the latter. He knows her well enough for that.

"It's, uh… going well, I think." Peter wonders how he's going to phrase his next sentence. He wants to bring up MJ's phone background, even though the night when he noticed it was a few days ago. He feels a bit juvenile as he thinks about it. She'd probably think he's even more of a loser than she previously thought if something so small as her phone background is still on his mind. He decides to see what he comes up with. "So…"

MJ cuts him off quickly. "Don't ask me about the phone background." This effectively shuts Peter up. How the hell can she read his mind like that? He decides to push the thought aside, because as cool as it would be if she had mind-reading powers, he has to focus on trying to convince her that he isn't as dorky as she thinks he is.

"Who says I was going to ask about your phone background?" Peter tries to brush off her statement casually, but he sees the look on her face, and he knows he's not going to get out of this interaction without a few bruises. Or something.

"I'm not dumb, Parker." He almost expects her to add, I also know you're obsessed with me. However, that's all she needs to say because he gets the idea. Thankfully, to save both of them from the awkwardness, MJ changes the subject. "I hope I'm not the only one who noticed Ned and Betty holding hands for the entire two hours." Peter smiles, the image of them awkwardly sharing the armrest, fingers entangled, either of their arms falling every few seconds.

"Yeah, that was pretty funny," Peter admits. He looks at MJ and notices her doing that tiny little smile he's seen so often on the trip. "They're cute or whatever," he adds, "But they also have to take it easy. I mean," Peter drops his voice to almost a whisper, "do they have to have their hands on each other at all times?"

MJ giggles. It's a foreign sound, and Peter takes a second to process it. MJ doesn't just giggle. He's not even sure if she laughs. Now that he's replayed her giggle in his head a few times, he wants to have it on repeat, because now his stomach is backflipping again and he wonders if he should just scamper up a wall and scream to all of Greece that he has a giant crush on a girl named Michelle Jones. Focus, Pete.

He thinks she said something while he was off in fantasy land because she's looking at him expectantly as they walk. "Uh, what?" Peter asks dumbly. MJ sighs exasperatedly as if she's said whatever she's said 20 times and he didn't hear her any of the times.

"I said, 'Ned's a teddy bear and he needs his share of hugs, and I'm glad he found Betty for that.'" Peter nods. Then he realizes that she actually said something nice. He feels like he should document the occasion. Deciding to mess with her a little bit, Peter effects a tone that begs for pity.

"Why can you take it easy on Ned, but not me?" He asks. While the way he asks it doesn't sound sincere, there's an undertone of curiosity. He watches MJ mull it over for a moment, but he knows she already has an answer and is only drawing it out to make him uncomfortable.

"Because you're a loser, loser," she states casually as if it's a known fact. Peter scoffs. The team is finally coming up on the hotel, and he doesn't want this conversation to end, no matter how much of a fool he's made himself look in the last few minutes.

"But isn't Ned also a loser?"

"Yeah, but you're an even bigger loser than Ned." She's grinning, allowing herself to really express the playfulness she wants to convey.

"I'm not even going to ask how that's fair," Peter says, sighing. The team is inside the hotel now, and the boys and girls are separating to enter their rooms. They stop in front of MJ's room that she shares with Betty, and she's looking at him, and he's looking at her, and he wonders if he should say something? Nah. It's her turn to speak.

"Well, I'll, um, see you tomorrow," MJ mumbles, resting her forearm against the doorframe. "Loser," she adds as an afterthought, making Peter grin because how can he be mad at her when she's smiling at him and her beautiful hair looks especially beautiful tonight now that it's in a bun and he thinks he hasn't seen her in one before.

"See you tomorrow, MJ," Peter mumbles back, saluting and walking towards the room he shares with Ned. He feels her eyes on the back of his neck before he hears the door close quietly.

Third and final stop: Venice. Peter remembers feeling especially excited about this part of the trip: He's always wanted to visit and ride in a gondola through the canals, enjoying the ancient architecture and beautiful weather. He never factored in the beauty of MJ, though, and when he's actually in the gondola with the recipient of his pining, he wonders how he could have been so stupid. Having her to look at as they cruised through the water made the view that much better.

It might be the best view of his life, he realizes when at one point she looks back at him and smiles, the biggest he's ever seen her smile, and it's not fake. It's not saccharine, because that's not MJ's style. It's an MJ smile. For some reason, she's smiling more and more, and Peter definitely isn't complaining. He's always thought she smiled beautifully, and it always made his heart skip a beat, so if she kept going on the way she was, he might have a bout of cardiac arrest. That would be fun to explain to her when he was in the hospital bed.

They're talking more, too. Any semblance of awkwardness between them is gone, and Peter finds himself approaching her to tell her his most recent observation on Ned and Betty, and she can call him over with a simple "come here" gesture with her index finger, hooking him towards her - and it's ironic because she has him wrapped around her pinky - whenever she has something new and snarky to say about Flash Thompson's asshole antics.

This time, the big show they go to is an opera, and just like in Athens, the two throw jabs at the whole production like they're watching a shitty movie in theaters. Quietly, of course. They both notice Flash drooling on his fancy suit, and have to slap their hands over their mouths to keep from laughing out loud. The show seems to go a little faster with MJ at his side, whispering little jokes into his ear, and Peter is so thankful because without her he'd have to actually watch the opera. The thought sends shivers down his spine.

When they walk back from the theater to their hotel again, Peter gets deja vu. The good kind. Some things are different, though. The silence between them is comfortable, not awkward, and Peter isn't scared to look at her profile every now and then. MJ is wearing a dress - not a typical fancy opera dress - a dress that only MJ would wear, and a dress that only MJ could look good in. The top half is yellow, with rings of white around her neck and shoulders, and starting at just above what he thinks is her navel (do not think about her navel, Peter), the rest of the dress is white. It looks great on her, and Peter doesn't know whether he should comment that aloud, because lately he's been feeling like it's time to tell MJ what he feels for her, and it seems like there's a deadline (which Peter knows is artificial, but he can't help but feel like it exists) on the date of their return to New York.

When he looks at her face, he watches her smile at something, but he doesn't see Flash Thompson getting impaled by the head of a gondola anywhere, so he asks, "What's on your mind?" She's startled by his voice interrupting her thoughts, it seems, because she visibly jerks, and then looks at Peter.

"What?" Peter chuckles. She looks uncomfortable, and he decides that he has to find out what's bothering her so badly.

"What's on your mind, MJ?" He repeats, adding her name to the question. "I saw you smiling. And you don't smile unless I do something stupid. So what's up?" She seems very interested in her fingernails just then. He glances down at them. They're painted the same yellow as her dress.

"Nothing…" she mutters, very unconvincingly, and she knows how bad it sounds because she frowns as she says it. Peter is surprised by her lack of conviction - usually, it's impossible to tell when she's lying, and the polar opposite for Peter.

"M-hmm," he hums mockingly. She looks up at him from her hands, finally, and smirks, trying not to call attention to a faint… blush on her cheeks?

"Shut up, Peter," she says, punching his arm. Huh. That's new. Peter can't recall a single instance throughout the whole 8 months they had known each other that she had called him by his first name. The closest she'd gotten to it was "Parker" and even that was a pretty big step up from "loser" or "dork." He decides not to comment on it since he likes the current feel of their interaction and mentioning her slip-up would totally throw off their rhythm.

"Fine, I won't pester you about it, Michelle," he says, grinning. He's not explicitly mentioning the fact that she used his first name, but he's still making a joke at her expense. This is a rare time when he feels confident enough to go after MJ with little jokes and he's milking it to its last drop. She rolls her eyes and simply walks in silence. For the first time in their friendship, she has nothing snarky to reply with. Peter savors the moment. He looks at her, and her face isn't set in a frown, her nose isn't wrinkled in that cute way it gets in Chemistry when Peter or Ned messes up the experiment, and while Peter finds those two looks on MJ very attractive, he decides that he likes calm, serene MJ very much in particular.

"What are you lookin' at?" Crap. He'd been observing her the whole time and hadn't pulled his gaze away when she turned towards him, probably looking like a goddamn creep.

"Nothing…" This is not going well. He's doing exactly what MJ did. She knows this because now she's the one grinning at his flustered self.

"M-hmm," she hums, just as he did a few moments ago, adding to the parallel. Peter rolls his eyes and looks ahead, unable to think of a retort. The team has reached the hotel, and they step inside, the boys taking off their hot and heavy suit jackets and holding them over their shoulders with semi-sweaty hands.

Once again, the ritual of walking to the hotel rooms begins, a tired silence hanging over everyone as they climb the stairs and walk the halls; it's the team's last night in Europe and they are all excruciatingly aware of it. Peter gives MJ a small wave as she turns towards him and does the same, receding into her room. Peter knows something has changed - MJ hasn't made a single snarky remark towards him at all today.

When Peter and Ned are alone in their room, door locked, the only light being the lamp between the two hotel beds, Peter says:

"Dude, I want to tell her I like her tonight." Ned nods, sitting down on his bed across from Peter. "It's just - I don't know how I'm gonna do it. I can't text her, but I can't just waltz into her room either."

Ned smiles. He's dealt with Peter's nerves for years, so he knows the exact right thing to say to alleviate them. "Dude, don't overthink it. You don't have to set a deadline for yourself."

Peter nods, exhaling shakily. "I know, I know, it's just that it feels like the time, you know?" Ned nods again. He knows. "God, I need to tell her before I go insane," Peter says half to himself and half to Ned.

"You'll be okay, man. The opportunity will come."

"Thanks, Ned." Peter is genuine. It seems that a joke is on the tip of Ned's tongue because he's smiling knowingly, but for Peter's sake, he stays quiet.

They burrow under the covers a few moments later, and Peter flicks off the light. Darkness.

That night, he can't sleep since he has everything MJ bouncing off the walls of his mind: the sound of her giggle, the feeling of her hair against his cheek, the way she had smiled at him on the gondola, the way her mouth moved when she said his name… Damn. He's in deep. Too deep. He has to do something about his feelings, he realizes, but he doesn't know when he'll get the opportunity to. Peter continues to shift in his bed, not finding a comfortable position that allowed him to relax. Screw it, he thinks. I need a snack.

Sneaking out isn't easy. He has to tiptoe out of the room in order not to wake Ned, and he catches himself looking over his shoulder multiple times to make sure Mr. Harrington isn't silently watching him in the hallway. When his fears dissipate, he is able to focus on finding the vending machine. It takes about a minute of walking through the maze-like halls, but he spots one and jogs over, antsy to get the sugar rush. He stands in front of the machine, pondering what to get. There are some weird Italian candies, more Italian candies… and M&M's. Perfect. Just as he fishes a few euros out of his pocket, he hears MJ's voice, almost making him drop the bills: "Can't sleep?"

Peter turns towards her, gripping his heart, feeling a head rush from the scare she gave him. She's wearing short black sleep shorts - he tries not to spend too long glancing up and down MJ's legs because they're long and smooth and Stop Looking At Her Damn Legs, Peter - and a white top with some political statement on it, but Peter doesn't want to spend too much time staring at MJ's chest to read it, because that's weird, duh. Her hair is done up in a bun as he had seen in Athens. She looks just as beautiful as she did then, with the added taste of domesticity making her look all the more attractive. She's grinning at him in his startled state.

"Y-yeah. I needed a snack." Peter wants to bang his head against the glass. How stupid can you sound? They spend a moment looking at each other, neither knowing what to say. "Wh… what are you doing out here, MJ?" She lifts up a book she had been holding behind her back.

"I wanted to read and didn't want to wake Betty up, so I was sitting outside when I saw you tiptoeing around." She cocks an eyebrow at him. "You walk quiet."

"Do I?" She nods. Hmm. Well, she is a self-proclaimed observant person, so he believes that she noticed it about him.

"Well, aren't you gonna get your stupid snack?" She asks, tapping her foot against the carpeted floor, creating a muffled noise that got Peter moving again. He inserts the euros into the machine and types in the code, waiting for the M&M's to fall. He bends downwards to pull it out, and when he stands straight, MJ is suddenly standing at his side. This causes him to stumble backward, banging his head against the wall behind him.

"Ow…" Peter groans, rubbing the back of his head gently. He notices MJ laughing at him, hard. "Yeah, ha ha, laugh at the kid who just hurt himself. Really funny."

In between bouts of laughter, she wheezes, "But it… it is…" She's clutching her sides at this point, and Peter has never seen this before. By "this," he means MJ openly laughing as if Peter knocking his head against the wall is the funniest damn thing in the world.

After what must be minutes, she finally stops laughing. Remnants of mirth are displayed on her face as she looks at him, her cheeks and ears deeply red, and a small, adorable smile present on her lips. "You can't deny that it was pretty damn funny, Parker," she insists. Peter rolls his eyes.

"Maybe. Is that what you came here for? To laugh at me?" Peter is a little bit embarrassed, so he's coping with it by sounding a bit aggressive.

"Hey, come on. I'm sorry," MJ says, realizing he gets the point. Peter sighs. It's impossible to stay mad at MJ - no matter how often she may make jokes at his expense and frown at him - because she's beautiful and makes his stomach do those stupid backflips.

"It's okay, MJ," he concedes. He looks down at his hands, just now remembering that he's holding the M&M's. He tears the package open and shovels a few into his mouth.

"That's disgusting, Parker," MJ says condescendingly. Peter smiles at her with his mouth full of M&M's, thinking he probably looks like a pufferfish that has yet to deflate. He takes a few bites before speaking.

"They're…" he swallows. "So good, though. Do you want some?" MJ smiles as if she had been waiting for him to ask that. She steps forward towards Peter, and suddenly his level of comfort drops drastically because now she's leaning against the wall next to him, reaching into the package of M&M's and her arm is brushing against his, sending electricity through it to the rest of his body. His breath speeds up just a little bit for a second, but he slows it again so that she won't notice. "Do you wanna sit down?" He blurts before he can stop himself, and she turns towards him with a jolt, and she looks over his features for a second, unable to place the emotion on his face.

"Sure, Parker." So they simultaneously slide down the wall until they're in a sitting position. MJ wraps her arms around her legs tightly, her book still in hand. In contrast, Peter stretches out, relaxing his posture, tossing an M&M into his mouth every few seconds. "Show off," he hears her whisper, and he can't help but smile.

"What, you can't toss food into your mouth?" He takes her lack of response as a no and raises his eyebrows. He turns towards her, frowns, and asks, "Seriously?" She shakes her head, looking at the wall opposite her.

"That stuff requires hand-eye coordination, none of which I have," MJ mutters. Peter nudges her slightly with his elbow. She tears her gaze from the wall and looks at him. "What?"

"It's never too late to learn, Jones," Peter teases. "Here. I'll toss it, you catch it." She shakes her head vehemently, but Peter insists, "Come on! You'll be glad you did it."

She rolls her eyes, classic-MJ-style. Peter loves it when she does that, and in this context, it's even a good thing because he knows she knows she won't be able to stop his whining. "Fine, Parker, but only because I know you won't shut up until I will."

"I'm glad you're learning, MJ," Peter says playfully. She rolls her eyes again, this time combined with a punch to his arm. Peter may be touch-starved because he misses the feeling of physical contact - May hasn't been with him to give him long, tender hugs, so all he's had in the last two weeks is these little nudges and punches from MJ. His mind suddenly projects the image of MJ's arm around him on the Ferris wheel. A little bit of red blooms in his cheeks at the memory, but MJ is waiting expectantly for him to toss an M&M, so he escapes his brain and shows her the candy he's about to throw. "Okay, open your mouth."

"Want me to open my mouth, Parker? Would you like that?" Her question is laden with seductive honey, and Peter gawks. He silently wishes she would talk to him like that all the time because it's the hottest thing he's ever heard before in his life. He also wishes she never spoke like that ever again because now he keeps thinking of the two of them together in a… mature context and this needs to stop.

"Shut up, MJ," he splutters. She smirks, victorious. "Come on, just do it." She dutifully opens her mouth, waiting for him to toss the M&M. He asks, "Ready?" She nods, mouth still open, head angled upwards slightly, towards the ceiling. "Okay. 3, 2, 1…"

Peter tosses it, watching its trajectory upwards, forwards, then downwards, expecting it to land in MJ's mouth. But she just sits still, not making any effort to move towards it and catch it in her mouth. It bounces off her left cheek and lands on the carpeted floor. Peter grins. Wow. This is worse than he thought. MJ levels her head to look at Peter, and her cheeks are red from embarrassment. She looks genuinely flustered, and he watches her hands shake slightly with nerves.

"H-"

"Don't you dare say anything, Parker. Just give me another M&M." Peter slowly shuts his mouth, nodding. So he tosses another. She misses it again, and this time it glances off of her forehead.

"Come on, MJ. You have to at least try to catch it."

"Shut up."

So he tosses another, and another, and she keeps missing, until at one point, when the package weighs almost nothing and Peter's arm is starting to cramp slightly, she actually catches it. Neither of them knows what to do or say, and they just sit in silence, staring at each other, eyes bugging out in shock. Suddenly, their neurons start firing and they finally register what happened. Peter raises his hand for a high five, and she puts hers up as well, and they meet halfway in a satisfying clap of contact.

Then they remember that it's 1:00 a.m. and there are sleeping people in the hotel, and they pull their hands back towards themselves as if that will quiet the sound they just made. Then they start cackling like madmen behind their hands, eyes drawing tears from the amount of laughter they're letting out.

Peter realizes as they're cry-laughing over spilled M&M's, that he needs to tell MJ how he feels, right now, because the moment couldn't be any more perfect and he feels so happy to be here in this hotel hallway with her, leaning against the wall and looking into her joyful eyes. First, though, he's going to ride out this wave of laughter with the girl he has a Europe-sized crush on. So he does, and they finally catch their breath, still maintaining eye contact through it all.

Once the silence is back, though, so are his nerves. He puts the last M&M in his mouth, crushing it to a pulp with his teeth and swallowing it. He lets out a breath. "MJ," he starts. Her eyes are still on him, and he feels like even though MJ is the only person paying attention to him right now, the entire world is the audience and he has to say just the right thing.

"Hmm?" She hums inquisitively. "What is it, Parker?"

Peter runs a hand through his hair. Thinks of what to say. He's run through such a scenario as this a million times in his head, but his memories fail him now, and there couldn't be a worse time. How do I start?

"Uh…"

"What, Peter? Out with it," she urges, using his first name for the second time tonight (or the first time today, depending on the way you look at it) and making a circular motion with her hand. Some of her hair must have gotten disentangled from her bun somehow while they were laughing, because he notices a few loose strands hanging in front of her eyes, and that familiar urge is starting to take over, and he imagines catching the flyaways between his index and middle finger and brushing them behind her ear. Then he remembers he's gaping like an idiot and needs to continue speaking.

He scoots a bit closer to her so that their knees are touching as they face each other, which he didn't intend for in the first place but now that he's here he probably shouldn't back out. "I need to tell you something, MJ." He feels like he's running on autopilot: Someone - something has taken over his body and he's just spectating one of the most important moments of his life to this day. He has to be present.

"What's up, Peter? Your hands are shaking," MJ observes, adopting a somewhat concerned tone. She shifts, tucking her legs beneath her.

"No. No, I'm okay," Peter deflects. "It's okay. Just, uh… just listen." MJ goes quiet again, leaning against the wall now, resting her head against the floral wallpaper. He does the same so that he's looking at her at an angle and the floor seems to be askew. "I just want to say…" Moment of truth, Pete.

"I swear to God, Peter, if you leave me waiting for another goddamned second I am going to smack your frog mou-" Before she can finish her threat, Peter blurts:

"Ilikeyoualotandyourethemostbeautifulgirlintheworld."

MJ blinks. What?

Even Peter himself has a difficult time understanding what just tumbled out of his mouth.

"What?" She looks confused. Peter wants to dig a hole through the comfortable hotel carpet and jump in and seal it off so that he never has to speak to anyone ever again. But, since he physically can't do that, he's stuck with MJ, shouldering the weight of what he's just said to her. "Can you repeat that?" MJ continues.

"I said," Peter starts again, a sudden surge of confidence coursing through his veins, "I like you a lot." One of her eyebrows begins to slowly rise and continues to rise as he continues to speak. "As more than a friend," he elaborates. Her eyebrow must be halfway up her forehead. "And I think - I think that you… are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life." He imagines her eyebrow has disappeared into her hair, never to be seen again. He looks nervously into her eyes, gauging her reaction, but her face is blank.

He's made a mistake. She hasn't said anything for a few seconds, and he hopes she's at least going to let him down easy. Oh, I'm really flattered, but I don't feel that way about you is the best he can hope for.

"I like you too," she says quietly.

Peter nods, accepting rejection. "Oh, that's oka - wait, what?" His brain finally catches up to his ears, and all he can think is, did she just say what I think she said?

Louder this time, she repeats, "I like you too, Peter."

A giant smile threatens to envelop his entire face. "You - you do?" Peter stumbles over the two simple words.

"Are you partially deaf or something? Because I -"

"No, no, of course not," Peter dismisses. "I just… I can't believe it." The smile is back, and this time he makes no effort to hide it. He's happy. So incredibly happy.

"You're such a dork," she says, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Is it just him, or is she way closer to him than she just was a moment ago?

Peter leans forward, head still resting on the wall. Now they're inches away, and his hand is fidgeting in his lap to keep it from pushing those adorable flyaways from her eyes. Screw it. He needs to stop resisting his impulses. Peter slowly, unconfidently raises his hand to her face, and she makes no move to push it away. He catches the strands of hair between his index and middle fingers, just as he had in his little daydream, and when his fingers brush against her cheek, she closes her eyes and exhales.

Scratch everything he ever said about MJ looking the most beautiful she's ever looked at any other point in time because this is the MJ he's fantasized about, the perfect version of her - casual, relaxed, and no matter how much she'd try to deny it, sleepy. Peter is sure he's going to keep correcting himself as time goes on.

Peter strokes MJ's cheek as he slowly tucks her hair behind her ear. His hand still cups the side of her face, not wanting to stop feeling her smooth skin against his fingers. He glances down at her lips and then looks back into her eyes, and notices she is also looking at his lips. Now would be a good time to -

MJ closes the distance between them, brushing her lips against his. The contact is chaste but Peter feels all of it - her soft lips, they taste like… vanilla? - and when she pulls a few inches away, he feels like he's going to melt. Peter's mouth is agape, and he knows because MJ reaches out with her right hand under his jaw and pushes upward to close it. Her hands are a bit cold, but Peter doesn't mind. He can't stop smiling.

"That's not fair," he mumbles.

"What?"

"I was going to kiss you first," Peter whines softly. A ghost of a smile forms on MJ's face.

"Get used to it, Parker. I like taking the initiative." The smile takes shape now, and her cheeks are pink like cherry blossoms. Peter leans in again, kissing her a little bit deeper than last time. While they kiss, MJ rests a hand on his chest and Peter lets his free hand land on her hip. Yeah, it's definitely vanilla. Peter smiles against her lips, drawing circles in the small of her back. MJ pulls away, and they stare at each other for a moment.

"Don't expect special treatment at decathlon practice because of this." The thought hadn't even crossed his mind because he had been so enraptured by MJ.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Cap'n," Peter replies, grinning.

"Dork."

"You're beautiful," he says again, feeling the words out on his lips. He likes the buzzing they leave behind. The pink of her cheeks intensifies to red and spreads to the tips of her ears.

"You already said that, Peter," MJ says, looking down into her lap. Is she… embarrassed? Impossible. The Great MJ never gets embarrassed.

"I know. I wanted to say it again because it's true." She looks up at him, and before he can do anything she's kissing him again. He makes a little noise of surprise, and he can feel MJ smiling against his lips. She's gripping the collar of his t-shirt, and now he lets his left hand fall down to her hip, continuing to rub her back with his right.

"I've wanted to do this for so long," Peter mumbles against her lips. She giggles, and he can feel his heart jump into his throat.

"Me too," she whispers. They smile at each other, not needing to say anything else to prove their feelings for each other. After they sit for a few more moments, they stand up without a word and Peter walks MJ back to her room.

MJ's about to step inside when, with her hand gripping the knob, Peter blurts, "I'm Spider-Man."

"I know." She's smiling, and he's not surprised. She is, after all, very observant. Without saying anything else, she leans in and pecks Peter on the cheek, then disappears into her hotel room. The moment is intimate and sweet, and it signifies that more is in store for him.

Epilogue

"Peter, come on. This is easier than you think." They're going over European history, which Peter's never been good at before in his life, so MJ is trying to help him as much as possible before their midterm. They've been dating for 10 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days, but who's counting, right? Not MJ.

"I know," Peter mutters, disappointed in himself. "God, I'm going to fail this test," he moans, looking up at the sky and sending whoever's up there a silent prayer. MJ takes his hand in hers, running her thumb over a ghost of a cut in his palm.

"No, you're not, Peter," she says reassuringly. "Something tells me," she adds, making him bring his head down from the heavens and back to her, "you're going to pull something out of your ass and do at least decently." She's biting her lip to keep from laughing at his miffed expression.

"Wow, thanks for the words of support, MJ," he says, tone drenched in sarcasm. She shifts in his bed so that she's sitting cross-legged, facing Peter directly as he lets his legs dangle.

"You're gonna do great, Pete. No matter how much you study." She can tell her sudden serious statement catches him off guard, because he does that thing when he gets surprised where his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and he freezes. It's adorable.

"I know," he says, resting his other hand on top of hers. "But a little bit of studying helps. Especially when it's with you." MJ rolls her eyes but loses the fight with her mouth to hide the smile that's forming on her face. She kinda loves it when he says stuff like that.

Kinda.

Okay, maybe she loves it a lot.

She'd never say it aloud, though.

"You're such a dork. A sappy," she pokes him in the chest, "stupid," again, "dork." One more time for good measure. He simply grins, eyes full of… something, something good, something for her. She doesn't know what to call it.

"Only for you, MJ." She's about to kiss him when the police scanner on Peter's phone goes haywire, buzzing in his pocket and whining obnoxiously. Her eyes fall, and she hears Peter groan. He pulls her face back up to look at him, and he starts, "I -"

"I know. Go do your thing," she urges, waving him off with her hand. He smiles, then hops off the bed to quickly strip his clothes off and throw on the suit. She's not afraid to admit that she admires his taut back muscles, and biceps, and by God, his abs are going to be the death of her.

Before she knows it, the suit is fastened tightly to his body and the mask hangs limp in his hand. He's standing, and she's sitting, and they're both looking at each other, waiting for the other to do something.

Peter takes a quick stride towards her, cups both of her cheeks in his hands, and plants his lips upon hers. She closes her eyes and leans into it, savoring the taste of him before he pulls away. When he does, he looks into her eyes for a second longer and says, "I love you, Michelle Jones."

She's a bit taken aback, but when she thinks about it, she realizes that she loves him too. That explains the butterflies she gets when he kisses her cheek, the almost maternal concern she feels when she sees him walk into class sporting a new bruise from a night of spidering, and the desire to defend him when Flash makes another "Penis Parker" joke.

Michelle Jones loves Peter Parker, and it's the best feeling in the world.

"I love you too, Peter Parker," MJ says breathily. Having spoken the words into existence makes the feeling that much more real for her.

He grins. "I'm glad."

Suddenly, he shoots out of the window, and she watches Peter/Spider-Man fly through the air, tugging the mask onto his head mid-swing. Even seven months later, having awareness of the double life he leads is still a lot to handle for MJ - a 16-pretty-much-17-year-old shouldn't have to deal with so much pressure, but somehow he handles it. And he handles it because he's a genuinely good guy - because he wants to help. She wants to hate how nice and loving and heroic he is, but she can't because she could never hate anything about him.

"I love you," she repeats to nobody but herself.

Far From Home, y'all. It's 2 months away. I'm so excited. I hope you enjoyed this story. It's longer than any of my other one-shots by a mile. Once again, if you so please, leave a review! Getting a notification that someone left a review always gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling. I love you all, and thanks for reading this! Until the next story!